


the maiden, the mother, and the other one

by TrekFaerie



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Female Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Magic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: Pepper takes an interest in magic.





	the maiden, the mother, and the other one

For over a year, two witches had lived in Tadfield.

The first, of course, was Anathema: she was the first witch Pepper thought she had ever met in her life, mainly because she didn’t remember the dozens of casual magic-users and neo-pagans that had attended her naming ceremony. Anathema wasn’t much of a proper witch; she knew about potions and charms and various other things, but she spent more of her time spending nights in the fields with binoculars, searching for alien ships, and posting online about how the Kraken was real than she did doing magic. But, it took all sorts, as her mum liked to say, and Anathema’s lacking in traditionalism was more than made up for when the second witch, Madame Tracy, moved in.

When she had first moved in, there had been a stalwart attempt by the townsfolk in general, led valiantly by R.P. Tyler, to have her be called “the widow Potts,” but it was all in vain; Madame Tracy just seemed a better name for someone with such red hair and flashy clothes. She was much more of a proper witch: she had tarot cards and magic crystals and said she’d gotten some of her money by tricking people into thinking they were talking to their dead loved ones, which was something she actually could do, but didn’t. Wensley – who had also been there when she had learned this, because all of Them had been in Madame Tracy’s drawing room, eating biscuits – had asked if that wasn’t a bit cruel, to trick people like that.

“Oh, dear, it’s much crueler to actually let a ghost through,” she said, wise with all her experience. “They don’t usually have very nice things to say. Nobody would have come back if they’d had to hear the truth.”

Pepper had loved her immediately.

There were times, when the boys became too irritating and the ambient levels of testosterone were getting to be too much, that she would break away from the group and seek out a witch’s company.

Sometimes, it was Anathema. With her mum’s permission, she’d spend early mornings stalking through the woods with her, looking for fairy rings and paths and forts. She would stare up at the sky through a small telescope set up in the field, and Anathema would tell her the stories behind every constellation, and how studying their position in the sky could give guidance. Divination was something they both particularly enjoyed: Anathema liked how vague it was, how low-pressure, and Pepper liked how most of the methods involved eating cakes or drinking a lot of tea.

Other times, she hung out with Madame Tracy. She took to tarot like a duck to water; her mum gave her a personal deck for her birthday, a druidcraft deck with pretty pictures of nature and mystics. She learned cold reading, and how to truly pierce the veil, though the latter was mainly used to make doing the former look more authentic. She taught her about the old ways of the wise and cunning women of the countryside, and how different plants and herbs could solve problems as easily as they could make them. Tracy let her dig into her endless trunks of old clothes, and Pepper’s mum was heartened to see her child start to swan around the village like a better class of Manson girl. 

Two witches lived in Tadfield. But, that wasn’t quite good enough for Pepper.

“You want to _what_?” The three of them had been taking part in the decidingly non-witchy activity of helping Madame Tracy repair the aging caulking in her bathroom, and were taking a break in the garden with lemonade when Pepper finally broached the subject.

“Ooh, a coven. I haven’t been in one of those since the ‘70s, at least,” Tracy said with a wistful sigh. “Me and the girls would save up our money to rent a cottage in Pirnmill for the weekend…”

“You don’t need to have a coven to be a witch, Pepper,” Anathema said. “Your path in the occult can be a very personal one. Mine was.”

“… get drunk off homemade mead, and dance with all our clothes off in Machrie Moor…”

“All proper witches have covens,” Pepper said confidently. “And we’ve got exactly the right sort for it! I’m the maiden, obviously. Anathema, that makes you the mother.”

“… I’m. I’ve never had any kids?”

“Yeah, but you could’ve! If your ex wasn’t such a milksop, you could’ve had loads of babies in the three months it took you to chuck him!”

“That is… not how babies work. On top of everything else wrong about that.”

“… and, of course, with three of us in prison, it all rather fell apart in the early ‘80s…”

“And Madame Tracy is the crone!”

“Pepper!” Anathema gasped. “That is so rude! You apologize right now!”

“She doesn’t have anything to apologize for, dear,” Tracy said. “The crone is the most powerful of the three, after all. She has all the experience and knowledge to impart on the other two.”

-

Adam was riding his bike down the main road of Tadfield when he came across Pepper, who was carrying a wicker basket full of books and candles.

“Hiya, Pep!” he said cheerfully, pulling up to ride next to her as she walked. “What are you up to today?”

“I’m meeting up with Anathema and Madame Tracy in the clearing,” she said, “so I can have my initiation into an ancient magical order and begin my journey down the path of witchcraft and the occult.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Girl stuff. Got it. You still on for later? Brian found a dead fox in his garden; we’re gonna give it a Viking’s funeral.”

“Of course!” Because there wasn’t much use in being a witch if you couldn’t play with your friends after your pagan rituals.

-

Three witches lived in Tadfield.


End file.
